


Progress

by entanglednow



Category: Psych
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-09
Updated: 2008-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time is an accident</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progress

The first time is an accident, or at least Shawn is fairly certain it's an accident. It happens at the end of a long chain of events. There's a fish, a set of handcuffs, a muffin tray and a selection of antique silver spoons, that are connected in such a wildly unlikely way that only the most determined, and omniscient, of criminals would have spent the effort setting the whole thing up.

Or Shawn, who totally would have attempted that level of epic insanity, if only he'd thought of it first.

The muffin tray _especially,_ had been a stroke of genius!

Either way it was a strange, and complex, path that somehow came to its epic, and insane, conclusion right here.

Lassiter has an excess of limbs, long and invasive, and currently tangled up with Shawn's in a way that's probably artistic, and more than a little dirty. But Shawn's too busy thinking words like 'oh' and 'naked' and Lassiter is too busy having a quiet, yet still audible, freak-out that involves trying to untangle himself, while in no way touching Shawn, or acknowledging any _nudity_.

It's like a tsunami of denial.

Which is weird considering this isn't one of those ' _oh man I was so drunk I have no idea what I did last night,_ ' kind of mornings.

No, this is the other kind.

It's like the thing...where you throw the thing into the water, and there's fizzing, and light, and... _chemistry_!

They have chemistry.

Granted it's a special chemistry, that involves bruises, and handcuffs, and sometimes inappropriate touching over dead bodies- possibly also ice cream, if viewed from exactly the right angle, though Shawn is not quite sure how.

"Do not speak," Lassiter says very quietly. "I am going to get up, find my clothes, and then leave, and you are not going to say a _single_ word."

Which is a shame, because there are a lot of words Shawn would quite like to say. He's just not sure at this moment that he could string them together in the right order. Words in the wrong order could be a catastrophe, flinging word shrapnel everywhere!

He gets a sheet thrown over his head, which is probably rude considering it's _his_ sheet, but probably slightly less rude than being strangled with it, so he'll let it slide.

By the time he drags it off, Lassiter has found ten percent of his clothes, and is dragging the rest of it from off of the floor, and the furniture.

Shawn is a little disappointed that nothing ended up over a lamp.

That _always_ happens in the movies.

"Ah-"

"Not a word," Lassiter says through teeth that may never unclench, there's the worrying possibility that he may have to live entirely on soup for the rest of his life.

Though he does manage quiet, angry panic astonishingly well, for a man only wearing boxer shorts.

Shawn opens his mouth to tell him as much.

"Not a god damn word!" One pointed finger promises terrible retribution, should he choose to voice any opinions...on anything.

The finger stops pointing long enough to do up the buttons of his shirt...which is an easier job than usual, because there aren't as many of them as there were before.

Lassiter ends up in eighty, maybe eighty five, percent of his clothes, because he's missing his tie, and one shoe.

The shoe is on the table, for some unknown and mysterious shoe reason, perhaps it went on a shoe expedition?

He wonders if he should tell him.

"This never happened," Lassiter says emphatically.

Shawn decides that screw it, he's _keeping_ the shoe.

It takes Lassiter a minute to find the door, but when he does he makes full use of it's door-like properties.

Shawn doesn't think anyone has ever left his place in a way that could be considered _fleeing_. In fact Shawn wasn't entirely sure until this very moment that people could flee, without invading armies or monsters somehow being involved.

"Well that was interesting," he says quietly from where he hasn't actually moved from yet.

He really shouldn't be this surprised.

It's one of the great equations of life, flirting leads to sex, and what they've been doing for...oh quite a while now, could be classed, in the most basic of senses, as flirting. Possibly accidental flirting but he doesn't think that's the point.

His subconscious has clearly been pushing for the prize all this time.

Shawn kind of wishes his subconscious had told him though.

"Damn it subconscious we should share these things!"

Also his wrist itches...

He fishes it out from under the sheet.

"Aha!" He's found Lassiter's tie.


End file.
